The Unforgiven
by WeMightBeCrazy
Summary: Demons are popping up all over Azeroth. Sylvannas is blaming Prince Kael'thas and his allegiance with Illidan, wanting the Blood Elves off the Horde. The only way to prove their innocence is to find out the truth, but do they really want to know it?
1. Introductions

_((You know the drill. I don't own anything but the story and the random characters. All races/classes/major characters/ect belong to my beloved Blizzard.))_

_Summary: A party of Horde mercenaries has finally found the warlock they needed to make their team unstoppable. However, when orders from Orgrimmar send them into the Plaguelands to retrieve a lost messanger, they'll find they have no time for odd jobs to make a quick buck. Demons are popping up all over Azeroth and Sylvannas is blaming the blood elf Prince Kael'thas and his allegiance with Illidan, threatening to kick the whole race off the Horde. The only way to prove the blood elves' innocence is to track down the real culprit and find out the truth...but, do they really want to know it?_

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**Chapter One - Introductions**

It was dusk by the time the party had made their way back to Brill, an ancient shade of pale yellow illuminating the still-crowded streets as the mis-matched group shuffled into a little pub beside the Inn. Once the five mugs had found their respective hands, an air of relaxation seemed to replace the one of exhaustion that had followed them into the pub. As they all sank back into the creaky wooden chairs, one of the party kicked his shoeless feet up onto the table and reached up to wipe the blood away from a small cut on his forehead. Each of them had their own battle scars to nurse, all sporting scrapes and bruises on nearly all of their exposed skin. One of them in particular though seemed to have the worst of it; five sets of eyes watching the little pool of crimson that was beginning to collect at the smallest figure's feet.

"As soon as enough of my mana returns, I'll have you fixed right up." Promised the dry, hollow voice of Valeria. She waver her hand as though it were nothing, her white robes billowing in the gesture. "If we hadn't gotten blind-sided by those damned dusk bats on the road, you wouldn't be bleeding all over your pretty self now."

"Aye, T'hak," Inquired the thick accent that could only belong to a troll. "What aboutchu, mon? Ain't you got any more potions on you? What about that healin' spell?"

The question had been directed at the large, dog-like creature at the other end of the table. The animal snorted and let out a little snarl, it's irritated, yet still somehow calm golden eyes glaring at his troll companion. A second later, the beast became illuminated by a soft blue light and replaced by a huge, muscular tauren, whose eyes still held the same glare.

"I can't use that spell again so soon." The tauren grunted back.

"It's fine." The bleeding figure said from beneath her hood. Delicate, graceful fingers slipped out from her cloak to grasp the mug in front of her. As she sipped from the crudely-shaped cup, her blood-stained fingers trembled, but the glow of her ghostly green eyes from the shadows of her hood remained unchanged. Setting the mug back on the table, she reached up and removed her hood, letting her shimmering, starlight-colored hair cascade about her porcelain features like a glow of phantom light.

"I ain't much of a healer," the troll admitted, "But, it looks like you got no other options." With an apologetic look at the white-haired beauty, he set down his mug. A green light emanating from his hands and, a moment later, was channeled into his injured companion's body, instantly sealing most of the deep gash on her upper torso.

"Thank you." She said, genuinely grateful. She took another swig from her own cup, sighing at the instant relief the shaman healer had provided.

"It ain't a problem." He replied, waving it off. "Anything for a face like that." Valeria, the undead, scoffed. She glanced sidelong across the table at her partner in jealous arms. Sharing the same unhappy look as the priestess; a second troll, this one female sat stroking the pale orange fur of a large durotar tiger that was sitting obediently beside her chair.

It wasn't a grudge or a personal vendetta. At least, not for Valeria. The huntress on the other hand, who had set her sights on the shaman long ago, was clearly unhappy about the shift in attention that had taken place the moment the elven beauty had joined their group. It wasn't nearly as big a deal for Valeria. It was more a matter of envy and regret than one of real jealousy or bitterness. Before her first life had been so abruptly ended by the plague, she had been quite an attractive woman, as far as humans go. Being in the presence of Ariynn, the elf, unnerved her more because of that fact than it did because she stole the attention of all the men in the group. Being forsaken, she had no interest in any kind of relationship.

All eyes shifted then as another figure approached the table; a second undead dressed in the robes of a powerful mage. The shaman jumped up to greet him and Valeria was about to pass him a drink when they realized he was not alone. Hanging back a bit, probably by the mage's orders, was a man with long red hair and pointed ears, dressed all in black.

"I've found us a warlock." The forsaken mage announced, sounding as accomplished as an undead was capable of.

"Yes. A blood elf." Valeria snorted, a scowl instantly crossing her ashen grey face. Ariynn's brilliant green eyes filled with offense, mocking the priestess's glare.

"You're point?" The warlock snapped back, his gaze hardening. The mage glanced over his shoulder, shooting his new-found companion a warning look. With an irritated sigh, the red-head dropped his confrontational attitude re-focused his attention on an argument taking place at the bar over whether or not an orc had had too much to drink.

"My point," Valeria snarled, "Is that I don't trust him. He'll probably steal all of our mana potions when we aren't looking."

The warlock's attention snapped back to the forsaken priestess at that, his fel eyes smoldering. With a scowl on his handsome face, the confrontational attitude had returned quicker than the peace-keeping mage had time to prevent. He was just about to knock the judgmental eyes from Valeria's rotting head when someone beat him to the punch.

"Is that so?" Ariynn had taken a few steps toward Valeria, one hand resting one hand resting on her hip, just dripping with prideful arrogance. She wore a look that dared the priestess to push the subject. "Have you recently forgotten? I'm a blood elf too."

"A rogue; not a magic-user." The priestess replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "And therefore, the only class of your kind that would allow me to sleep with both eyes closed instead of keeping one always on my bags."

"Yes; a rogue. All t he better to steal your potions with." Ariynn retorted with a sly smirk. The apprehension floating invisibly in the air around the group's little table could be felt form the bar on the other side of the room. As everyone began to grow tense in the face of the argument, the only calm that remained was in a pair of furious red eyes at the head of the table.

"All the same," Valeria continued, despite all the warning looks and reasons not to. "You aren't capable of exhausting all the magic within yourself. But him…" She pointed to the warlock, who folded his arms over his chest, chewing his bottom lip in an effort to bite back his obvious rage. "All of his skills are based on mana. The only thing worse could be a mage. And with that ridiculous life tap of his, he'll probably be five minutes into a raid and already writhing on the ground, crying for a mana crystal!"

"Enough!" A thundering voice boomed across the table and over everyone's heads. They all froze at this; even the warlock, who had begun moving forward, the mage's bony arm the only thing between him and Valeria slowly, Karn stood, his green skin illuminated by the pub's lanterns as he rose from the shadows. "I will hear no more of this bickering nonsense! A warlock is what we need and he looks to be a decent one. We'll give the blood elf a chance. Let's at least see what he can do."

"Fine!" Valeria spat with a scowl. Being their leader and the one who had originally assembled the group four years ago, she had absolutely no room to argue with him. She did, however, retain the right to be stubborn, which she made clear as day by pointing to T'hak. "_You_ heal him."

"Take a seat, brotha.'" The troll offered, kicking out the open chair beside his. The new-recruit gave a slight nod in thanks and sat. "Names Kal'jin an' I be-"

"A shaman." The warlock observed.

"Tha's right mon!" Said the troll, breaking out into a wide grin. "Guess you been around the block a few times, eh?"

" 'Around the block a few times' isn't going to get you very far running with us." Valeria snorted, scowling into her mug of ale. The red-headed blood elf glared in her direction.

"Don' you mind her any. She always been like that. Valeria's our healer, but its lookin' like yours is gonna be T'hak." Kal'jin motioned toward the tauren at the corner of the table; the only one of them without a drink. T'hak bowed his large head in recognition. The warlock returned the gesture and turned back to the troll, who went on with the introductions. "I know you already met our mage, Odun, but I guess you got no idea about the rest of us. My fellow troll is Malkima, the hunter. The lion be her pet, Ironclaw."

The look he was receiving from this second troll wasn't much pleasant that the icy daggers Valeria had been shooting him. Being a blood elf warlock, one of the most hated, discriminated again class/race combinations he could have possibly aspired to be, he was used to the awkward stares and bitter glances, but these were supposed to be his allies? The people he was to fight alongside in battle? Those he was to defend and be defended by in desperate times? He could already see that this wasn't going to be a very successful venture. Perhaps it would be best for him to back out now. After all, he had done fine on his own until now…

The next face he saw, however, was much more encouraging; beautiful and calm, with a pair of gorgeous fel eyes that perfectly matched his. There was the slightest hint of a smile on her pale lips as she watched him from across the table.

"Tha's Ariynn." The shaman explained, following the red-head's gaze. "Pretty, ain't she? But, I guess where you're from, she ain't nothing special, eh mon?"

On the contrary. Even in Silvermoon, she would have been a rare find. She had the looks that any blood elf would covet, with all the attributes of their high elf ancestors; long locks of white-blonde hair, pale, but still pink skin so far untouched by the ashen grey tint of arcane withdrawal, and decked from head to toe in robes of brilliant crimson and gold.

"An' that big green brotha' is Karn." He continued with a chuckle. "Don' be scared o' him, mon. He might look like a big monsta', but he'll have your back when ya need 'im there."

"Good to know." The warlock replied, pulling his eyes away from the fair-haired rogue.

"So, what about you, mon? You got a name?"

"Oh…well, yes, of course." The elf hesitated. "You can just call me Jack."

"Jack? That don' sound very elvish, mon." Kal'jin noted with curiosity. Karn's eyes raised in recognition, a hint of surprise on his face; the warlock's darted to the table.

"Right," He conceded with a short sight. "My name is Erurainon."

"Well, tha's a mouthful, brotha'." Kal'jin laughed. "I see now why ya'd rather jus' be called Jack."

"Actually…call me Eru instead." He suggested, his brilliant green eyes still on the table.

"Tha's a deal, mon. Eru." No one seemed to notice how the warlock spent the remainder of the night avoiding Karn's gaze.

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_((So, what did you think? If you read it, please review. I love constructive criticism and reviews in general. Its nice to know someones actually interested in my story and reading it. Chapter Two is in the works right now, its about half way done; it'll be up soon. Yay for plot development! XD))_


	2. A Disturbing Discovery

**Chapter Two - A Disturbing Discovery**

"The Eastern Plaguelands!" Malkima exclaimed, the excitement in her voice causing an agitated growl from her pet. "First they send us through Scarlet Monastery and now they want us to go out and catch the plague?"

"What's wrong? Afraid of getting sick?" Valeria snickered, patting Ironclaw to calm her down. "Don't worry, it isn't so bad. The dying part, at least…it's the living afterwards that's a bit rough."

"Well, that's comforting." The huntress replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It doesn't matter whether or not we like the job." Karn announced, shutting down everyone's complaints immediately. "We've accepted it; we're going to get it done."

"What is it that we need to do anyway?" Malkima asked as her pet returned to her side. The others looked up at this, curious as to what exactly a mission in the plague lands would entail.

"I received notice from Orgrimmar that a messanger carrying word from Undercity disappeared before he could make the delivery. The last place he was seen was the Eastern Plaguelands. Our orders are to find him and bring him back, if he is still alive. If not, we are to retrieve the message and deliver it ourselves." The orc explained, his firey eyes scanning the group. Counting only six, he lifted an eyebrow. "Where is the warlock?"

"Probably still in bed sweating his way through a nasty bout of arcane withdrawal. Someone take the boy a mana crystal so we can get on with this." Valeria sneered. The smirk was wiped from her forsaken face with one snarl from the druid.

"I'll get him" Odun offered, turning toward the stairs that led to the Inn's rooms above the bar.

"No." The mage turned back to see Karn staring with suspicious eyes at the stairs. Odun raised an eyebrow. Karn's gaze shifted to the rogue, who was sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee. "Ariynn." Fel eyes flitted up to their commander. "Go and fetch the warlock for us."

With a light nod, she set her cup down on the old oak table and got to her feet. She didn't see the curious looks that her companions exchanged as she headed up the creaky stairs. Creaky for anyone else who used them; the elven rogue's swift steps barely made a sound. When she reached the top of the stairs, she made her way to the fifth room on the left side of the hall and pulled open the door, her eyes widening slightly at the sight. Sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of loosely-fitted black pants, was the warlock.

It seemed the priestess had been right, Ariynn realized as a sick feeling settled itself in her gut. Indeed he was sweating; his skin, which looked pale even for a blood elf, shone with it in the morning light that came in through the window. Though his red hair hung loosely, blocking his face from her view, Ariynn could guess the pained expression that must have been there. She had never experienced it first hand, but had watched others suffer the maddening withdrawal. She understood the severity. That was when she realized why Karn had sent her to find him and not one of the others. It was also when said elf looked up to see her gaping in the doorway.

"Oh-my apologies…" Ariynn said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She dropped her gaze to the floor and took a step back, out of the room. "Karn sent me to get you. We're preparing to leave."

"Thank you." He replied calmly. "I'll just be a moment."

"Actually…" She paused to clear her throat. Glancing back at him, she saw that he had moved from his seat on the bed to stand in front of the mirror, pulling his long hair into it's usual loosely tied position. "It would look better for you to come down with me."

The warlock paused in what he was doing to shoot her an unreadable glance. He gave a short nod and slipped something into his pocket. It was only when she saw the faint whitish-blue glow through the dark fabric that she realized that he had been tapping arcane energy form a mana crystal when she had so rudely barged in. Feeling guilty, she remained silent as she watched him don the rest of his gear, slinging on his black robe as he strode past her and out the door.

"Ah! There ya are, Eru. You look like hell, mon." Kal'jin said as the two elves come down the stairs. Valeria scoffed, exchanging smug grins with Malkima.

"When does a warlock not?" Ariynn challenged, reclaiming her seat and her still-hot coffee. Looking at the blonde elf, Eru wasn't sure whether he should be thankful or insulted. He found it didn't matter, however, when a large hand closed over his shoulder.

"Oh. Thank you." He said, taking the offered cup of coffee from the furry hands of the tauren. He caught a hint of well-placed concern in the druid's eyes as his large hand remained on the much smaller elf's shoulder, eventually sliding off a moment later. Unsure what to make of it, the warlock remained silent and sipped from the steaming coffee cup.

"I think we officially run outta places ta look, Karn." Kal'jin declared, speaking the words that the rest of the group had been thinking for the last two and a half hours. As they made their way down the crumbling steps of the rickety old tower and climbed onto their mounts, Karn grunted in response.

"We'll split up into groups and do a final sweep of the area." He decided. Malkima sighed, obviously frustrated with the whole ordeal, but no one else dared argue. "Malkima and Valeria, you head back up north and look around Plaguewood. We will all come full circle and meet you near Stratholme within the hour. If we fail to find the messanger, we will travel from there to Silvermoon and translocate to Undercity to report the failure. Ariynn and Odun, thoroughly search around Zul'Mashar. Kal'jin and T'hak, I want you to stay here and search the southern areas up to Corin's Crossing. Erurainon, you go with them. I will go up to Eastwall Tower and the Noxious Glade."

The warlock scowled. He wasn't at all happy about being sent to tag along with two others when Karn could have easily split everyone into groups of just two. He wasn't stupid; obviously Karn wasn't sure of the initiate's strength yet and wanted to be sure he could handle himself before sending him out with only one companion to aid him. It made sense, he supposed, but did he really look like he couldn't take care of himself? Karn and the others had taken off though before he had a chance to protest.

"Well, I know there ain't nothin' back east, we already checked that area good." Kal'jin stated, shrugging and turning to his partners. T'hak nodded and lifted his hand above his head. Another flash of pale blue light followed and the druid shifted to a lithe cat-like creature with bright orange fur and black spots. He flicked his long, slender tail and clawed at the dirt beneath his feet, impatient.

"We've already thoroughly check Darrowshire as well." Eru replied. "So, shall we just head toward Corin's Crossing?"

"I suppose so, mon." Kal'jin agreed. As soon as the words came from his mouth, the druid's ears twitched and he leapt forward, racing down the path to the west. Kal'jin's raptor screeched and quickly followed.

"Let's go." Eru told his dreadsteed, whipping the reins gently. The demon horse didn't move; he only snorted, forcing a puff of steam from his snout, his smoldering eyes shifting up toward his master. Cocking an eyebrow, Eru looked around, searching for the source of his beast's unease. He saw nothing. That was it. There was nothing. This was the Eastern Plaguelands, it should have been crawling with tortured spirits, rotting ghouls and vicious plaguehounds. Yet, there was nothing. The more the warlock stared through the thick orange haze that hung in the air, the more he began to feel it. There was a demonic presence here. It was slight, hidden and would have easily gone unnoticed by someone untrained in such dark arts. It was only when he heard the heavy padding of Kal'jin's raptor approaching that Eru snapped back to attention. He met Kal'jin's gaze just as the troll stopped in front of him.

"What is it, Eru?" He asked. "We gotta get going, we only got an hour, mon."

"Right. Sorry." Eru patted his dreadsteed's neck and this time the horse agreed to move on.

Eru and Kal'jin made their way up the path to where T'hak was waiting for them. The druid sat on the edge of the road, near a steep downhill slope that was the opening of the Infectis Scar. The group hadn't searched down in any of the scars on their first sweep. They hadn't thought there would be any reason a messenger would have not simply been on the road. Now, however, they had to search every last crevice or report failure. The three descended slowly into the Infectis Scar and this time Eru was somewhat relieved to find it was filled with living decay and rotting sludge just as it should be. Maybe it had just been in his head before and it was a good thing that he hadn't decided to tell the others what he had felt. They stepped around the sludges without incident and made their way down every winding grove in the scar. Just as they began to think that they wouldn't find anything here, T'hak alerted them to a scent in the air to their right, further down the scar. Warlock and shaman both followed their companion's gaze.

"Whats that?" Kal'jin asked, pointing to a large pile of loose dirt near the end of the scar. "Can you see it, mon?"

"Yes, I see it." Eru replied. At the end of the scar he could see what looked like the aftermath of a rock slide at the edge of the slope. Poking out through the rocks and rubble was a hand, small and bony, clutching a yellowed piece of paper. "There's our messenger."

"I guess we gonna be deliverin' the letter ourselves." The shaman observed. T'hak snorted and began padding over toward the fallen messenger. Eru and Kal'jin were just about to follow when a single large rock bounced down the slope, rolling to a stop near the exposed hand. Suddenly all the muscles in the warlock's back tensed as a burning sensation shot down his spine. His fel eyes darted to the top of the slope where a group of five powerful felguards stood, their heavy axes raised menacingly. Immediately a purple glow began to emanate from Eru's body, a circle of demonic symbols forming at his feet. A second later his own demon stood at his side; Sellissa, a succubus.

"My turn to play again?" The she-demon hissed with a wicked smile. She cracked her whip and charged toward one of the felguards as Kal'jin slammed his axe against another's breastplate. T'hak, who had shifted now into a huge bear also jumped in, attacking the other three demons at once. Eru quickly planted a seed of corruption on two of the felguards, then cursed them all and summoned flaming boulders from the air that came crashing down around them. By the time the first seed had detonated, one of the demons was dead. Kal'jin being victorious against his foe, moved on to help the druid. Eru's hands ignited as he prepared to finish off his target, casting a wave of crackling fire that surrounded the felguard. As the demon fell to its knees with a loud, ground-shaking thud, Eru heard a call from behind him.

"Warlock! Move!" Kal'jin yelled as Eru whipped around. The second seed had detonated, provoking the last two demons to switch targets and attack him instead. After a moment of shock, he quickly cast death coil at one of the demons, stealing its life force with a flash of neon green light and sending it into a panicked run. He began casting fear at the second demon, but he knew it was too late as it was charging toward him with it's axe raised high above it's head. As the demon swung it's massive weapon downward, devoted Sellissa jumped between her master and his attacker. She held up her hand, palm facing outward and the felguard stopped, frozen in it's tracks. Eru exhaled the breath he had been holding and turned his attention back to the other demon, cursing it again and finishing it with a deadly shadowbolt as T'hak and Kal'jin brought down it's partner.

"You alright, Eru?" The shaman asked as the dust began to settle. T'hak shifted into an ent now and cast a few small healing spells on himself and his companions.

"I'm fine." He answered. Sellissa flipped her silky black hair and blew her master a kiss.

"Something is wrong here." T'hak said, now in his natural tauren form. "There should not be demons in the plaguelands."

"I agree, friend." Kal'jin chimed in, crouching down and taking the letter from the lifeless hand. "Whatta ya say we dig 'im outta here and see what happened?"

Eru and T'hak agreed and they began digging out the body of the messenger. Once all of the rocks had been removed and the rubble brushed away it became clear to them that the demons they had just encountered had undoubtedly been the cause of the messenger's demise. One of his arms had been completely severed and there were multiple deep gash wounds covering his body in the same shape as the felguard's axe blades. Kal'jin emptied the messenger's bags and discovered a collection of felguard horns in their own separate leather pouch. When he dumped them out onto the dirt, the three companions looked at each other, sharing the same suspicious look in their eyes. Now their list of questions had grown even longer. Why would a messenger traveling from Undercity to Orgrimmar have come through the Eastern Plaguelands in the first place? Why wasn't he riding along the road? Why were there demons roaming the Infectis Scar when they had never been seen in the area, even in the times of the Burning Crusade? And why did this messenger have a collection of their horns in his bags? There was only one thing that could possibly provide an answer to any of these questions; the letter.

None of them had to speak a word; they communicated with matching looks their decision to open the letter. True, they were all well aware of the consequences they would face for doing it. Not only would Karn be upset with them, but the Warchief wouldn't be too happy to see the seal of a secret document between two leaders of the Horde broken when they delivered it. However, they had a right to know at this point what was going on. Now that they had to complete the failed messenger's task, they needed to have proper knowledge of what they might come up against in the process. Kal'jin slipped his thumb under the envelope flap and jerked it across, breaking the seal. As he unfolded the yellowed paper, Eru and T'hak leaned in on either side to read along with him.

* * *

_Honorable Warchief,_

_In this letter I must regrettably inform you of a disturbing discovery made by my most trusted scouting parties. About a month ago, I received a request from Tarren Mill for aid. They had reported seeing powerful demons in the area, roaming freely in large groups. After sending my scouts to investigate, it seems that said demons are not only in the area, but have begun gathering together to form what appears to be a small army. I sent troops to deal with the situation, but a few days later I received another request for aid from a small forsaken base in the Eastern Plaguelands that was nearly identical to the first from Tarren Mill. Upon sending another scouting party to the Plaguelands, I discovered that the same events were transpiring there as well. I have sent the messenger who is to deliver this letter to the Eastern Plaguelands to gather proof that he should have for you upon your request. Great Warchief, I understand your reasons for allowing the Blood Elves to join our mighty Horde, but I must tell you…I believe it is time that you reconsider the offer. We know that the Blood Elf prince Kael'thas has abandoned the ideals of the Horde and given his allegiance to the Betrayer, Illidan Stormrage. We have tried on many occasions to defeat this traitorous duo, but there has yet to be any real proof of death for either of them. We have already seen the Blood Elves attempt to follow in their Prince's footsteps and betray us once during the Burning Crusade, is it too much of a stretch to believe that they are still plotting against us and reforging their alliance with the demons yet again? Thrall, you must open your eyes and see that these wretched elves have no sense of loyalty; they care for nothing but feeding their mana addiction. The Horde cannot simply stand by and watch as the Blood Elves make fools of us once more. We must act. We must cast them out and declare war upon these betrayers before it is too late!_

_-The Dark Lady, Sylvannas _

_

* * *

_

Eru felt as though his chest was on fire. He clenched his fists in fury, a few crackling embers and wisps of smoke raising up from his hands as they shook with the force he was using to control himself. Sylvannas, cold and merciless as ever, was blaming his entire race for the appearance of these demons? How dare she not trust his people after all they had done to show the Horde their loyalty. Eru himself had been in many a battle where he had been forced to slay his own kind because of their trust in Kael'thas. All for the Horde All just to prove that there would be no need for further suspicions. Yet, here it was in plain writing from the Dark Lady herself. And now she was trying to have the Blood Elves completely thrown off the Horde? Ridiculous! It would never happen. Thrall would never do such a thing. He couldn't. The warlock might have been the only one to know the reason why, but Sylvannas was a fool for even suggesting it.

"I'm not sure what to say, mon." Kal'jin told the furious blood elf. Eru kept his eyes averted from either of their gazes and summoned his dreadsteed, hopping up on the saddle in silence. Kal'jin sighed and scratched the back of his neck before calling forth his own mount. There really wasn't anything he could say, his mind was blank. Personally, he wasn't one to think bad of anyone because of their race. Except for those damn alliance scum. He knew as well as the warlock what the Blood Elves had sacrificed to prove their allegiance to the Horde, so he could somewhat sympathize with how he must be feeling.

"Karn must see this letter." T'hak grunted, before shifting into his travel form once more.

"Right. We gotta get to Stratholme and meet up with the others." The shaman agreed. The three of them began to make their way up the road at a quick pace, the red-headed blood elf remaining silent the whole way.

* * *

_((So, thats chapter two. Sorry it took a little longer than I expected to get it done. I was a little distracted by actually playing WoW rather than writing about it. XD But, anyway. I'm already starting chapter three now, hopefully it will be up sooner that chapter two was. As always, if you read it, please review! Let me know that you're actually interested and the chapters will be up a lot faster. Thanks!))_


	3. To Silvermoon

**Chapter Three - To Silvermoon**

By the time Eru, Kal'jin, and T'hak had arrived, the others were already waiting for them. They sat on their mounts, lined up along the edge of the Stratholme city limits, their various sized black and red tabards making them look so uniform that they could have passed for a small army. The druid remained in his travel form as they approached their companions and Eru, who was still lost in his own thoughts, cast his gaze away, back toward the road.

"Have you found anything?" Karn asked, seeming to expect a no from his three scouts.

"Err..." The shaman hesitated. He reached around to his pack and pulled out the letter. "Da messenger was dead, Karn. But, we did get da letta he was carryin'"

"Good."

"That ain't it, sir." Kal'jin said slowly. "We uh...run into some trouble back at da Infectis Scar."

"Felguards." T'hak chimed in , now in his natural form. He called up his kodo mount and climbed upon the massive beast. Everyone looked momentarily surprised, some more than others. Karn's eyes narrowed as Malkima released a less subtle outburst.

"What? Demons?! In the Plaugelands? How can that be? Are you sure you're not mistaken? You didn't trip and bump your head, did you?" The huntress spouted, eyes wide. Ironclaw hissed softly. Eru looked up at that, glaring daggers at Malkima.

"I think a warlock would know how to identify a Felguard." He snarled.

"Indeed." Valeria retorted, a grin gracing her grey, lifeless lips. "If he could see them clearly through the haze of his mana addiction."

"Enough of this! It matters not. We are to focus on the task at hand." Karn ordered, irritated. Malkima rolled her eyes and sighed, but Valeria and Eru continued to hard look one another, though they kept their mouths shut. Their green-skinned leader held out his hand, palm up. "Kal'jin. The letter."

"O'course, sir." The shaman said. his reptor strode forward with a slight nudge and Kal'jin passed the yellowed envelope to Karn after a little pause. Looking like a dog that knew it had done wrong and was awaiting it's master's punishment, Kal'jin's gaze shifted slowly from the broken seal to Karn's face and back again. When Karn caught onto what Kal'jin was trying to silently own up to, his eyes began to smolder.

"What is the meaning of this?" Their leader snapped, yanking the opened letter waway from the troll's hand. "You've tampered with a document that was meant only for the eyes of the Horde leaders?! Did you think I would not notice? The Warchief will be furious!"

"Sir. If we might explain ourselves." T'hak pleaded in a calm and collected voice. Kal'jin nodded and Eru simply kept his eyes averted as always. It wasn't his place to speak now. Karn had every right to throw him out of their group at that very moment. It didn't seem that he was making a very good first impression.

"Fine. Speak." Karn grunted. Valeria snickered quietly, tucking her chin to her shoulder so her leader wouldn't hear her and scold her yet again. Not that it mattered. At this point, being such an important part of their group, the priestess could get away with practically anything. Regardless, Ariynn shot her a glare.

"Da letta wasn't da only ting da messanger was carryin'. He had dese too." Kal'jin explained to the irate warrior, whose face was already beginning to relax, appearing more curious now that angry.

Even Odun and Valeria seemed interested now, leaning closer on the skeletal warhorses. Kal'jin pulled another object from his bags then; the leather pouch full of felguard horns. He tossed it to Karn, who caught it easily and tugged open the cloth ties. The others peered over his broad, plate-protected shoulders to see what was inside. They were all silent for a while after that, all quietly speculating about what could have been going on.

"What does this mean?" Odun asked in his gruff, undead voice. His expressionless yellow eyes were focused on Eru. When the warlock heard no response, he looked up, eyes darting from one person to another. Seeing them all looking at him, he cleared his throat and dropped his eyes back to the ground again.

"I...I don't know." With a sigh, he looked back up at them, his expression cold. "But, the messenger was killed by those demons. That's why we opened the letter, sir." Sir. The word sliced at his throat like shards of glass. "We felt we had a right to know what we were going up against now that it is our mission to deliver the letter."

At this point, Karn no longer appeared to be upset with them. Everyone simply seemed to be too lost in curiosity and suspicion to worry over what would have normally been considered an act of treason. The three raised their chins high, knowing now that they had made the right decision in opening the letter.

"Very well." Their leader said, calm once more. He heaved a sigh and reached into the small envelope with over-sized green fingers, pulling out the letter it contained. Karn unfolded the piece of paper carefully and everyone who hadn't yet seen what it said, leaned in close to him, reaching over his broad shoulders. Remembering the message the letter bore, Eru clenched his fists, feeling furious all over again. He could feel his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms even through the fabric of his gloves. What he didn't notice was Ariynn glancing up from the letter to look at him, her clowing green eyes reflecting sympathy and a hint of their own anger.

"What on Azeroth has our dear Dark Lady begun now?" Odun mumbled to himself, hairless forsaken brows furrowed.

"I suspect we shall know shortly." Valeria replied.

"What?" Kal'jin spoke up now. "No victory dance? No cheer for joy? Not a single smug comment from da almighty blood elf-hatin' priestess?"

"This is nothing to joke about, shaman!" The undead priestess snapped, extending a long, bony arm toward his direction. One fleshless finger pointed accusingly at him, inches away from his long nose. Kal'jin swatted her hand away with a scowl.

"Ya. An' tha's neva stopped ya before. So, why now, eh mon?" He retorted.

"It's because," Ariynn began, cutting off Valeria's furious response. "This letter does not only mean trouble for the Blood Elves, but the Undead as well. This is a very serious accusation The Dark Lady is making. After this issue has been properly investigated, if the Blood Elves are found to be innocent, I have no doubt that The Warchief will be less than pleased with Sylvannas."

"That is none of our concern." Karn snarled, tucking the letter into the small leather pouch on his hip. "Our only job is to complete the delivery. If The Warchief wishes, he will give us the command to delve further into the matter. If not, then we are to go about our lives as if we never saw this letter."

"What? You want us to just pretend we don't know that this is going on?" Malkima blurted out, gesturing widely with her arms.

"Exactly." Karn enforced. "From here, we will travel north through the Ghostlands to Tranquillien, where we will fly to Silvermoon and translocate to Undercity. Once there, we will take the zeppelin back to Orgrimmar."

Malkima huffed, obviously still unhappy with the situation. Ironclaw seemed to agree, growling and anxiously slapping the ground with her tail, kicking up a little cloud of dirt as she swished it along the road. "Why are we going that way? Can't we just go back to Undercity and save ourselves the trip?"

"At our current location, it will save us time." Karn explained. "Now that will be the last I will hear of your complaints. We move out!" The orc prodded the ribs of his war wolf with his large, heavy boots and immediately, the creature sprang forward at a swift run.

"Wonderful." Valeria groaned. "An entire city full of Blood Elves."

"Excited?" Ariynn sneered.

"Oh, I can hardly contain myself." The forsaken priestess replied before taking off after their commander. Odun sighed, shaking his head and following, Malkima on his flank with Ironclaw in toe. Eru snorted, his furious eyes still glued to the ground, fists shaking with fury. It was he who could hardly contain himself. He wanted so badly to tear every bit of the remaining flesh from those wretched bones and watch her fall to disjointed pieces into a pile at his feet. He couldn't help but wonder how his female counterpart had put up with that undead witch. Perhaps Valeria wasn't so cruel before he had joined them. Somehow, he doubted that.

"Eru?" The warlock looked up, startled. Speak of the devil. The elven beauty sat directly in front of him, bouncing slightly as her hawkstrider shifted it's balance from one leg to another, dipping it's head to clean the bright purple feathers under it's right wing. Her fel eyes were wide, but her brows were knitted together, giving away her unrest. He couldn't be sure, but was almost certain that she must have been feeling somewhat similar emotions. "Are you coming?"

Glancing over her shoulder, he could see Kal'jin waiting for them a few feet away and T'hak a bit further off in the distance. All the others, however, were already out of sight. Perhaps he shouldn't go with them. This was a bad idea, it had been from the start. How Odun had managed to convince him to agree to this was beyond him. True, they had met before, but he hardly knew the undead mage. They had been assigned to the same party upon arriving in Outland during the Burning Crusade and both had been equally impressed with the other's skill. That, the warlock supposed, was why Odun had sought him out to ask him to join their group. He wasn't sure when Odun had become a part of this, but when the mage had bumped into him some nights ago in Dustwallow Marsh, he'd said that he had been looking for him for over a year. They had gotten to talking and after a few pints, made plans to join up with the group in Brill.

"You are coming with us, aren't you?" Ariynn asked again, looking more concerned this time.

"Just to Silvermoon." The warlock replied. "I"m afraid this was a bad idea."

"Oh." Her ghostly eyes drifted downward. "You aren't happy with us?"

It seemed to him as if she were referring more to herself than to their group as a whole, but he said nothing of it. Still, he couldn't help the guilt ebbing into his subconscious in response to the dejected look on her gorgeous face. Eru sighed. "Its not that. I've just always done better on my own."

"I see...well, when are you going to tell the others of your decision?" She questioned, glancing back up at him.

"When we reach the city, I suppose." Eru answered.

"Aye! Let's get a move on!" Kal'jin yelled over to them. Ariynn cleared her throat and Eru could've sworn he glimpsed a tiny hint of blush on her cheeks. She flashed him a quick little smile before turning on her mount and heading off after the others. A moment later, Eru followed her.

* * *

_((Yaaaay! Chapter Three is finally up! So, its way too short to merit the incredibly long wait, but at least it's here! Told you I'd get it finished eventually! =P Anyway, please R&R. Thanks, everyone! And yes...I have already started on Chapter Four.))_


	4. A Warlock's Word

**Chapter Four - A Warlock's Word**

Silvermoon was as beautiful as ever. The setting sun hung low, resting atop the marvelous statues and elegantly carved high walls, the facing lavender sky providing a glorious backdrop for their arrival at the blood elf capital city. They walked together in silence up the gold-trimmed marble stairs and through the large pass that lead to the Walk of Elders, the two blood elves among them glancing up to gaze upon the massive likeness of Kael'thas that greeted them. Though they said nothing to one another, their thoughts were one, remembering the letter, considering the possibilities. Could their misguided prince really be behind the appearance of these demons? If not, then who? Even worse, if he was, then what would become of their race? Would they once again try to follow in their former leader's footsteps or would they remain loyal to the Horde? There was no way to know at this point in time, but the thought of slaying more of his own kind churned the elven warlock's stomach.

"Alright." Karn boomed as they entered the city. He turned to face them all before he continued. "We will stay in Silvermoon for the night. At first light, we will translocate to Undercity to catch the zeppelin. Do as you wish for now, but do not be late tomorrow."

The orc's red eyes settled on Kal'jin at his last remark. The troll grinned, shrugging. He could not deny his history of drinking until dawn at the local pub and arriving late for the start of their next mission. Such was his usual behavior whenever the party chose to stop for the night in a city. T'hak sighed, knowing he would have to once again assume his role of babysitter for the shaman that evening.

When their commander walked away, heading in the direction of the inn, the others began making their plans for the night. Their jumbled words mashed together into an unintelligible buzz as they reached Eru's ears. From what he did hear, he gathered that they would all be meeting later at the pub, some planning to leave sooner than others, most of them wanting to restock supplies or visit their trainers beforehand. He turned to leave. Their plans no longer concerned him. The red-haired elf had other matters to attend to.

As he strode down the path toward his destination, Eru heard soft footsteps padding along behind him. As light as they were, they could only belong to a rogue. With a huff, he whipped around, his black robes twisting and swishing around his body. His fel eyes were met with an identical pair, though Ariynn's were wide with surprise. "Why are you following me?" The warlock asked.

"I'm not." Ariynn stated calmly. Eru scowled. "I'm not following you. You just happen to be walking in the same direction that I am. I'm going to Murder Row to restock my poisons."

Her red-headed counterpart blinked. Of course. How foolish of him. Ariynn raised her eyebrows expectantly as though waiting for his response. An arcane guardian, flanked by two crimson-decked soldiers rounded the corner and passed them, their heavy footfalls and clanging armor providing a convenient break in what was quickly becoming an awkward silence.

"Well, may I walked with you, or am I too much of a bother?" The beautiful rogue asked with a slight pout.

Eru shook his head. "Of course. Forgive me. I was being rash."

"Well, that's not quite the word I would have used, but apology accepted." She said as she began walking again. When she reached his side, Eru walked with her.

"You know..." She began, folding her arms behind her head. "I've always been very fascinated by warlocks."

"Oh? Why is that?" Eru kept his eyes glued to his feet as he shuffled along beside her, his hands tucked into his robes.

"Well, we are not so different, you and I." Ariynn replied.

"Is that so?" He asked, slightly skeptical.

"Yes. It is. We both spend the majority of our lives in the shadows. We are looked down up on by the rest of our kind. A waste of magical talent...that's what the Arcanists would say." She tilted her head to look at him, smiling as a few stray golden locks slipped from behind her ear.

"I cannot deny that I have heard those words before." He muttered, scowling at his feet.

Ariynn dropped her arms to her sides then, stopping in her tracks and turning toward him. Eru stared at her, confused by her sudden energy. Silently, he waited for her to speak. She looked hesitant, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Do you think...that I could go with you? I know you warlocks are very protective or your secrets, but...perhaps if I'm with you...would they let me into The Sanctum?"

Eru's fel eyes widened. For a moment, he was speechless. When his words finally returned to him, he chuckled. "I sincerely doubt it."

The elven beauty seemed to deflate right before his eyes, her hopes dashed. She cast her eyes downward and sighed. "I see..."

Watching her, the warlock couldn't help but feel guilty. For some reason, that dejected look in her gorgeous green eyes tugged at his heart and before he even knew it, his mouth was spewing words that his mind had not yet given approval of. "I suppose...its possible. A rogue in our midst shouldn't be too much of a cause for concern. We could always ask them when we arrive."

Ariynn perked up, beaming at him. "Really?"

"Why not?" Said Eru with a shrug.

"You won't be scolded for this, will you?" The rogue asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Eru laughed. "I guess we will see when we get there."

It was a short walk to Murder Row and just a few more paces to The Sanctum. The two companions stepped through the archway, brushing past the veil of deep violet curtains. As they made their way down the winding ramp, countless pairs of glowing green eyes raised to meet them. Ariynn tensed ever so slightly, but the warlock at her side, who was now among his own people, remained perfectly calm. He held out his arm, holding open a second set of curtains, matching the first in hue, so that she could enter ahead of him. When she stepped past him, he released the veil and followed her into the room.

Scattered about were many tables and cushions, as well as a few still-smoking incense burners and hookah pipes. The room was dark, dimly lit be the eerie green light of four fel stones that hovered in the center, connected by lengths of chain and bound around their middles. The shadowed Sanctum was populated by warlocks, some standing along the walls, conversing in hushed voices while others lazed about on the cushions behind more translucent purple curtains. More still sat in a circle on the floor, surrounding the stones that floated above them, tapping the fel energy that burned within them. One warlock, a middle-aged male with shoulder-length, spike auburn hair, jumped up upon seeing them. He flashed a charming smile as he approached them.

"Erurainon!" He exclaimed, slapping a hand down upon his fellow warlock's shoulder. "Its been such a long time! The last time we saw you, you had just returned from Outland! You were in quite the state back then. Tell me, have you cheered up any? Did you ever forgive that father of yours for sending you out to kill your kinsman?"

Ariynn shot him a curious glance, which Eru promptly avoided. He was deciding how to discreetly answer his old friend's question when the other's eyes shifted over his shoulder, falling on the rogue. He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side. "I sense no demonic power in this one."

"I should hope not." Eru said slowly. "She's a rogue."

"What?!" The other elf shouted. "Then why did you bring her here?!"

"Torian, calm yourself." Eru urged, glancing around at the new pairs of eyes settling on them. "She won't cause any trouble. She will be leaving soon, anyway."

Torian looked skeptical, but sighed in consent, waving his arm. "Fine. But, do not be long." He left them then, wandering back to his seat by one of the larger hookahs and puffing at one of it's pipes.

"I'm sorry." Ariynn said as soon as Torian was out of earshot. "I shouldn't have asked you to bring me here. I should go before I get you into any more trouble. I'm sure you had a reason for coming here and I don't want to keep you from it."

Eru nodded in agreement and turned to walk toward the center of the room where the fel stones hovered. He didn't want to be rude, but she was right. There was a reason he had come here and the more time he wasted, the more pressing the matter was becoming. Behind him, Ariynn was staring at his back as he walked away. This was the last time they would ever see one another and he couldn't even bid her farewell? The thought made her heart sink. They couldn't part this way...not that she wanted them to part at all.

"Eru!" She called after him, suddenly. The warlock turned to find her still standing there. Her gaze shifted away for a moment before returning. "I...I'm going to meet Kal'jin at the pub shortly. You should come with me. I'm sure the others will be there as well. You should tell them yourself that you've decided not to stay with us."

The red-haired warlock sighed. "They're intelligent enough. I'm sure they will get the hint."

"Well then...just come for me." She said, planting her hands on her hips. "I'd like to enjoy the company of another blood elf for at least one more evening."

"There will be plenty at the pub, I'm sure." Eru quipped.

The blonde rogue pouted, scolding him with the look in her eyes for being so stubborn. "I mean, one who understands what is going on. Is it so hard for you to be social?"

He sighed again. "Alright. I will meet you there."

"Do you promise?" She looked unconvinced.

"You have my word." Eru replied, giving her a slight nod.

"Good. Then you can buy me a drink when you arrive for being so rude to me earlier." She smirked at him and promptly turned on her heel to leave.

Once her lithe little figure had disappeared behind the purple veil at the top of the spiral ramp, the warlock heaved a sigh. He raised a trembling hand to his forehead, finding it coated with sweat. He made his way over to Torian and flopped down onto the cushion beside him. His fellow warlock passed him a small, rounded bottle which glowed with bright blue light. Eru took it gratefully and closed his eyes as his head began to spin. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the idea of drinking the potion in his hand, but he knew that he would only feel worse if he didn't. Pulling out the stopper, he gulped down the glowing liquid and say the empty bottle on the table beside him.

"So, its getting worse?" Torian asked from his right. Eru only nodded in response. "You're not alone. The other warlocks of Silvermoon are having the same problem. The other trainers and I...we've been trying to coach them in new ways of battle, so they can preserve more of their magic...but, it doesn't seem to be helping. The withdrawal is becoming a very serious issue. There's been talk of a possible meeting between us and the warlocks of Orgrimmar to discuss new tactics that might be helpful to us. As far as I know, they haven't replied to any of our letters. Have you heard anything about it? Are they even discussing it in the Cleft of Shadows, or are they just going to ignore our inquiries?"

"I don't know." He replied. "I haven't set foot in Orgrimmar in over a year."

"Oh? So, you still haven't forgiven him then?"

Eru scowled, though his eyes remained closed. "No. I haven't...and why would you mention such a thing in front of a stranger, by the way?"

Torian cocked an eyebrow. "You mean that rogue? She doesn't know? If she is such a stranger, then why did you bring her to The Sanctum?"

At first, Eru wasn't sure how to answer that question. Truth be told, he didn't know the answer himself. It wasn't the first time an outsider had asked him to take them into their lair, but he had certainly never agreed before. "I don't know...she...wanted to see it. She says that warlocks fascinate her. That we are similar to them...rogues, I mean."

Torian laughed and Eru finally opened his eyes, looking at him. "So, you're a fool for beauty, eh? I would have never guessed!" He laughed again.

The red-head glared at him a moment before straightening up. He crossed his legs and set his hands on his knees, leaning forward slightly. He closed his eyes again and suddenly, a beam of neon green light shot out from the lowest fel stone in the center of the room, connecting with his forehead. "Be silent." He growled. Torian laughed once more.

* * *

_((Look at that! I finished Chapter Four in a day! I didn't upload it right away because I was busy working on Chapter Five, which is almost done already. As always, please R&R! Now that I'm back from my little hiatus, I promise I mean it when I say, the more reviews I get, the quicker the chapters will be up! Its always nice to know people are actually reading. If not, I'll lose my motivation. =( Well, til next time! Thanks, everyone!))  
_


	5. Elves and Alcohol

**Chapter Five - Elves and Alcohol**

The pub was packed with drunken blood elves and a few equally intoxicated undead. It wasn't hard to spot the travelers with Kal'jin's blue skin and T'hak's massive tauren head sticking out far above the rest of the crowd. They were seated at the bar, sipping various alcoholic beverages from short, red-tinted glasses when the warlock approached them.

"Eru!" Ariynn exclaimed as he emerged from the crowd. She patted the gold and white painted stool beside her. "We saved a seat for you. It was no easy feat."

"See, sista! I told ya he'd come." Said the shaman at her side. "Nobody can resist a face like da one you got on ya. Not even a warlock!"

The elven beauty giggled, playfully slapping her troll companion's arm. Eru took the offered seat, glancing about the pub. A moment later, his fel eyes finally found their target, aided by the pale purple skin of the troll huntress. She and Valeria were sitting at a small table by the far wall and though their faces were occasionally obscured by passing patrons, it was easy enough to read the contempt in their eyes. The warlock shook his red-haired head and turned away from them. It appeared he had made the right decision.

"So, are you drinking?" Ariynn asked form his side, eyebrows raised.

"This is a pub, is it not?" He replied sarcastically. He waved the bartender over and ordered a mug of darkmoon reserve, taking a hefty swig as soon as it was placed before him. The potent beverage was like liquid fire, scalding it's way down his esophagus and igniting in his chest.

"Now, how does a warlock who had always worked on his own afford a pricey drink such as that?" Asked the rogue with a smirk.

Eru feigned offense. "Are you insinuating that I am incapable of supporting myself?"

"Not at all." She replied. "I'm just a little jealous, I suppose."

"Would you like one?"

Ariynn grinned. "Well, you do still owe me a drink."

"That I do." He said, waving his arm for service. A different bartender answered his call this time; a female elf who looked almost too young to indulge in the beverages she was serving to her guests.

She leaned far forward, crossing her arms over the bar and squeezing them suggestively around her chest to boost her cleavage. "What can I get for you?" The young bartender asked with a sly little smile.

Seemingly oblivious to her advances, the warlock gestured toward Ariynn. "She would like a mug of darkmoon reserve, on me."

The bartender's flirtatious eyes shifted toward her competition. Her gaze drifted up and down the rogue's figure, comparing it to her own. Finding her still-developing body at a disadvantage, she huffed and slid off the bar before running off to fetch the drink he had requested. When she returned, she was smiling a devilish grin and swishing her hips in an over-exaggerated fashion. Before she even had the chance to set the mug down on the bar, Ariynn snatched it from her hand. The talented rogue slipped her arm around Eru's back and leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, love." She said to him before turning an icy glare on the other female elf.

The young bartender collected her payment and scurried away without even a second glance at Eru. The elven warlock gaped at the woman to his left, a look of utter disbelief on his face. Ariynn laughed, as did the shaman, who had also seen his expression. "Relax." She said, still attempting to calm her fit of giggles. "I was just doing you a favor. That silly girl would have tried to flirt her wasy into a big tip from you all evening. Now, she will leave you alone."

"No, now she will probably not even acknowledge me when I order a second round." He argued with a smile.

Ariynn laughed again and sighed, shaking her head. "I'm glad you came, Eru. I wanted to talk to you."

The red-haired elf, who was in the midst of taking another swig from his drink, peered up at her over the rim of his mug. Swallowing a mouthful of the burning liquid, he set his drink down and looked back at her, brows furrowed. "About what?"

The rogue's teeth found her lower lip for a split-second before she spoke again. "About your decision to leave us. I think you should reconsider." Eru shook his head, opening his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "Just hear me out, alright?"

He lifted his mug again, gesturing with his free hand for her to proceed as he took another drink. Ariynn lifted her own mug to her lips before she continued, taking a moment to grimace at the strength of the alcohol. Had the situation been different, Eru would have been amused. "I've never much minded being the only blood elf in the group. But, since you've been with us, as short a time as it's been...I have to say, I'd find myself quite lonely if you left." She paused, watching him. "I like you, Eru. You're a good person...and a good warlock. We could really use someone as skilled and powerful as you are. We have a lot to offer you as well."

"Like what, exactly?" He growled, subconsciously glancing over at the priestess on the other side of the bar.

"Like companionship. Security. You would always be safe with us. You would always have someone to depend on when you needed it." Answered the rogue, ignoring his bitterness.

"I won't need it." The warlock snapped. "I have no use for companions."

Ariynn leaned away from him, an expression of hurt on her beautiful, pale face. "You've never found yourself in a situation, while you were out there on your own, where you were faced with a task you couldn't complete by yourself? You've never needed someone to have your back on the battlefield?"

Eru scoffed. "I'm a warlock. My demons are the only help that I require."

The blonde elf was officially offended. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the stubborn red-head. "Well, I suppose that now I know why you're so unsociable. If the only company that you keep are demons, its no wonder."

With that comment, Eru was equally offended. He glared at her, furious that she would dare speak ill of his loyal assistants. True, they had begun as servants and none of them, save Sellissa, who had appeared to be immediately attracted to her master, had been too happy about it. It hadn't taken long though for Eru to build a strong, trusting relationship with each of them and by now, he was without a doubt that he could lay his very life in any of their hands...or claws. His demons were more friends to him than any other being he had met on Azeroth. He sighed and turned to rest his elbows on the bar. "You wouldn't understand."

"I guess not." The rogue huffed, snatching up her drink.

"Then try." A loud, gruff voice boomed over their heads. The two elves flinched, whirling around to find T'hak eyeing them

"Yah, mon!" Kal'jin agreed, throwing his arms in the air. Ariynn had to move swiftly to the side to avoid being splashed by the troll's drink. Kal'jin looked down at the floor, squinting through his drunken haze to see the alcohol spilled at his feet. "Oops...Der be no point in fightin! Jus 'cause ya don' undastand eachoda yet, don' mean ya neva will! Same goes for da otha ladies. Dey warm up ta ya soon enough."

Ariynn, whose eyes had softened now, turned back to Eru. He looked confused as he stared at the inebriated troll, but honestly, he had made perfect sense. Though he doubted the last bit, it was still encouraging. His fel eyes flitted up to T'hak, who nodded.

"We all wantcha 'ere." Kal'jin continued, reaching around the tiny rogue to slap his hand into Eru's back. "Point is, we need a warlock, mon. An' you be a good one. Not ta mention, dis pretty little sista ain't gonna be happy wit any otha warlock now datchu come along."

For a moment, the two pairs of fel eyes met. The rogue and warlock both looked as though they wanted to speak, but were thwarted by the drunken troll as he slammed his empty glass down on the bar. "Ahhhhh!" He hissed, finishing with a loud belch. "Who be ready for round two?"

T'hak, remaining sober, as always, shook his large head and sipped at his non-alcoholic beverage. Eru, who had just finished the last of his drink, lifted his hand, earning a cheer from the shaman. The two looked then at Ariynn, who was staring down into her still-full mug of darkmoon reserve. The warlock crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his stool, skillfully hiding an alcohol-related, momentary loss of balance. "I'll tell you what..." The rogue looked up at him, seeming to understand that he was speaking to her. "I will forgive _your_ rudeness if you finish that drink and have a second with us."

A smile tugged at the corner of the fair-haired elf's lips. "Deal." She tossed her head back and chugged down the contents of her mug.

The mood was much lighter for the remainder of the evening. Thanks to Eru's financing, the three of them all switched permanently to darkmoon reserve as their drink of choice. The druid, of course, stuck to his tea. As the hours passed, the busy pub gradually emptied and eventually, there was enough space for the group to move to a table. They ordered round after round until the table was littered with empty mugs and all three companions were hanging off their chairs or drooping onto the table. Ariynn was staring with bleary eyes, which she kept blinking to clear her hazy vision, at Kal'jin and T'hak as they conversed. Although, it wasn't much of a conversation. It was mostly the shaman berating his tauren friend for never indulging with him. The rogue chuckled and shifted her attention to Eru, who was leaning over the table, his arms crossed over it's surface, his head resting upon them with his eyes closed.

"Hey!" She said suddenly, pointing at him. "Are you going to join our guild or not?"

The warlock groaned, lifting his eyebrows, but not opening his eyes. Slowly, he slid off the table, flopping back into his chair. He rubbed a hand over his face and finally looked at her. "You know, I'm really not as powerful as you may think I am."

Ariynn's jaw dropped as she released a mock-gasp. "What? Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not being ridiculous. I am telling you the truth." The red-head assured her.

"Oh, stop it. Before you got here-and you took long enough, by the way. I had three drinks before you even arrived. Anyway, before you got here, Kal'jin was telling us-oops!" As she spoke, the unusually clumsy rogue had lifted her arms up over her head to stretch and accidentally knocked over a glass on the table behind them. Eru laughed at the quizzical look on the elven beauty's face. "What was I saying?"

"Kal'jin was telling you..." He reminded her, scooping up his nearly empty mug.

"Oh! Yes! Kal'jin was telling us about those felgaurds you fought at the Infectis Scar. He said that one of your spells was so powerful that the demons actually came after you instead of T'hak." Said Airynn, looking impressed.

"So?" She may have been impressed, but he was not. "It's a fairly common occurrence for a warlock. When a seed of corruption detonates, it does a massive amount of damage, which usually makes him the prime target."

"Whatever you say. T'hak is very strong. We've fought with him alongside all kinds of warriors and no one has ever drawn the attention of the enemy off of him before." The warlock simply shrugged, finishing the last of his drink. Ariynn pouted, heaving a sigh. "We really do need you, Eru. Please?"

He set down his empty mug, fidgeting with it for a moment before finally looking at her. There was that look again, the one he couldn't seem to resist. Though her eyelids drooped slightly over her ghostly green eyes and deep pink tint, the tell-tale sign of her intoxication, graced her cheeks and nose, he still could not argue with that pleading face. "Alright. But, if I am going with you all in the morning, then I'm afraid I have to call it a night."

The shaman whined and T'hak looked exhausted, but Ariynn jumped up from her chair, squealing excitedly. She swayed a bit and Eru hopped up as well, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Once she had regained her balance, she looked up at him through thick black lashes and suddenly he was fighting the urge to lean in and kiss her. She must have been feeling similar because her little pink tongue slipped out to wet her lips as she stared up at him. Eru quickly dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned to the others.

"I'm sorry, but if you plan to stay, you'll have to buy your own drinks now. Goodnight." He gave them a slight bow, ignoring the frown on the shaman's tusked face and headed toward the door.

"Wait!"

The warlock turned back to see Ariynn following along behind him. "Yes?"

"Are you going to the inn?" She asked.

"Well, no...I was going to return to The Sanctum." Replied Eru.

"Oh." She looked put-out for a second, pouting and batting her eyes at him. "Will you walk me there anyway? I'm afraid I'm a bit too drunk to find my way alone in the dark."

"Of course." Even a warlock was not without manners. He offered her his arm, which she immediately attached herself to, clinging to him as they left the pub and walked out into the dark, silent city.

Eru led her along without a word, trying to ignore the way her tiny hands worked their way up and down his arm, stopping occasionally at his bicep to give it a slight squeeze. When they arrived at the inn, he stopped and Ariynn pressed her face into his shoulder, moaning softly against him. The warlock shifted uncomfortably, attempting to slip his arm free from her grasp, but she only clung tighter to it, leaning her whole body into him as he tried to pull away. She opened her eyes, gazing up at him with a faint smile on her plump lips.

"You know...I meant it when I said that I like you, Eru." She mumbled against his sleeve.

The red-head's eyebrows shot upwards. "You're drunk." He told her, shrugging off the comment.

"So?" Ariynn argued. "If you knew me better, you'd know that alcohol doesn't make me say things I don't mean, it makes me more honest."

She seemed proud of that fact, though Eru wasn't convinced. "Well, when I do know you better, perhaps you can tell me that again sometime."

The drunken rogue huffed, pushing away from him. She started to say something, but stumbled, nearly losing her footing. Very unlike a rogue. Again, Eru reached toward her, his arms outstretched to catch her. This time however, she shifted at the last second, falling backward and forcing the warlock's hands to land much lower, his fingers curling around her tiny torso, just beneath her ribs. As he held her steady, Eru could swear he felt her heart pounding through her skin. She stared up at him with that irresistible expression, her lips slightly apart as her breathing grew heavy. He wanted to release her, to express a sincere apology and explain that he hadn't meant to grab her so inappropriately...but, his hands would not obey his alcohol-infused mind.

Ariynn lightly bit her lip and the warlock lost his control. He jerked her body into his and passionately kissed her, shuffling clumsily forward until her back hit the outer wall of the inn. She arched her body into his, matching the fire in his kiss with her own as her fingers tangled in his long red hair. The rogue moaned against his lips and suddenly he was no longer concerned with the amount of alcohol either of them had consumed. He ran his hands down along her curvacious body to her thighs, slipping them under her and hoisting her up into his arms. She wrapped her legs and arms around him as he carried her through the door and into the building.

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_((So, that's Chapter Five! I think I finished that one faster than any of the others. I hope you liked it. As always, reviews are welcome. Chapter Six is already in the works and I promise there will be more plot development in this one! Until next time, people!))_


	6. The Warchief and The Warlock

_((Greetings, readers! Yes, I'm talking to you, handful of people who are actually interested in this story. This is just a little note to anyone who read chapter one and the stuff on my profile. If you're confused by the mention of a character named Jack in the summary of my future Avatar fic, I just wanna clear that up. The main character of The Unforgiven, Eru, is actually named Jack(which you'll soon find out all about), but the character I mentioned on my profile is actually from my original, non-fanfic novel. Before you ask, no I didn't intentionally give two characters the same name. My novel was around years before The Unforgiven was even a thought in my head. Actually, the whole reason my friends and I got into WoW was to do a sort of roleplay of my book. As such, I named my toon Erurainon, which was apparently elvish for Jack. When I started writing The Unforgiven I had grown so attached to Eru as his own separate character that I didn't have the heart to rename him. To avoid confusion for those who have read my novel, I try to never refer to Eru as Jack, except when it is essential to the development of the plot. Having said that, enjoy Chapter Six!))_

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**Chapter Six - The Warchief and The Warlock**

The next morning came far too quickly for all of them. One by one, they each drug themselves out of bed and filed out of their respective rooms to meet in the dining hall for coffee and a quick breakfast. Karn, staying true to his reputation as their responsible, ever-punctual leader, was already up and waiting for them when they arrived. T'hak was the first to rise after his commander, being the only one who hadn't spent at least a portion of the previous night drinking. He was followed shortly by Odun, then Valeria, and Malkima not long after, leaving just the blood elves and shaman to wait on. Everyone expected Kal'jin to be the last out of bed, but all of them looked up in surprise to see the two elves come strolling down the stairs side by side. With a den of warlocks in the city, they had all assumed that Eru would have spent the night with them, not at the inn...and certainly not in Ariynn's room.

The others said nothing to the elves as they approached. Ariynn sat at an empty chair and helped herself to a piece of dried meat from the large platter in the center of the table. The warlock, however, did not even glance in their direction. He continued on past their table and headed straight for the bar to order a glass of hair from the dog that had so viciously bitten him the night before.

"You look tired, my dear." Valeria jested, eying the rogue. "Did you not get much sleep?"

It was a rhetorical question. The priestess had booked the room right next to Ariynn's and the paper-thin walls hadn't provided much of a barrier between her undead ears and the passionate sounds that had emanated from the female elf's quarters. The fair-haired elf seemed to understand that she didn't need to respond because she remained silent, resting her chin on her hand as she chewed, smirking smugly at nothing in particular. Behind her, Eru finally walked up to their table. He scowled down at the drink in his hand, swirling it about in the glass as though he were trying to decide whether or not to even drink it.

"Erurainon!" Karn's powerful voice boomed over Malkima and Valeria's cackling. Hearing the full length of his name being called, the warlock straightened up, turning his fully attentive eyes on the orc. Only twice had he been addressed by his new-found commander, but both times it had made him feel as though he were a boy again, being reprimanded by one of his tutors. Perhaps it was because of the authoritative tone he always used...or perhaps it was just because he was an orc. Karn gestured toward the platter of dried meats and breads in the center of the table. "If you plan to eat something, I suggest you do it now. We are about to move out."

"Yes, sir." The warlock said with a nod. He leaned around the others to grab a piece of bread, though he wasn't even hungry. In fact, the thought of food was very unsettling to his alcohol-ravaged stomach.

"We aren't going to wait for Kal'jin?" The huntress asked her leader.

Karn rolled his intense, red eyes. "No. I've already sent T'hak to his room twice and neither time did he answer the door. We've no time to sit around waiting. I have to doubt that he will catch up with us either in Orgrimmar or on the way."

Malkima nodded. Karn stood to leave, the others following suit. As they all left the inn, Eru took a final swig from his glass, emptying it and slammed it down onto the table before following after them. Even though he was still recovering from the night before, the red-haired elf had thought for a moment about ordering and chugging a second drink before leaving or possibly purchasing a bottle to fill his flask. With such little notice, he had decided there was no time. AS the party made their way up the spire toward the translocation orb, he found himself wishing he had taken the extra time to do so regardless.

The warlock's stomach tightened more and more with every stop he took toward the glowing red orb. He shoved his hands into his robes to hide the way that they trembled as the others all filed into a line along the ramp. Orgrimmar. He was more than hesitant to go there. He'd been forced to stop in the orcish city a year ago for supplies, but had managed to slip in and out unnoticed by keeping his hood and mask up. Perhaps he could do the same this time. After all, the only part of his face that his shadowy hood revealed, with the face covering pulled up were his eyes. No one would be able to recognize him by his eyes alone. Not even the Warchief...or so he hoped.

When he looked up, the others had all gone. It wasn't too late. He could still back out now. There was no one here to force him to follow them to Undercity and even if they came back for him, he could easily disappear beforehand. After years of experience hiding in the most uninhabitable corners of Azeroth, Eru was sure that they would never find him. But, Ariynn...he'd made a promise to her, given her his word. With a heavy sigh, the warlock raised his arm toward the orb and vanished in a puff of swirling violet and crimson mist.

It was mid afternoon by the time the zeppelin arrived in Durotar. The blazing desert sun was high over their heads, but still managed to send out sweltering waves of heat that reached all the way down to the burnt orange sand, bouncing back upwards to cast shimmering, waving lines on the horizon. The air was thick and dry; it scorched their throats and nostrils as they inhaled and the whipping wind lifted the sand from the ground, sweeping it up at them, quickly coating their clothing. The party left the airship as it's goblin captain made his unnecessarily loud call to announce it's arrival and impending departure. They shuffled past the boarding passengers, dodging massive, spiked, plate armor and broad, heavy weapons.

When they reached the entrance to the city, they saw no sign of Kal'jin, but assumed that he would be arriving on the zeppelin when it returned from it's second voyage of the day. Malkima suggested that they stop at the pub for a quick drink to counteract the powerful effects of the Durotar heat. Karn was reluctant, but eventually agreed. As eager as he was to deliver the letter and make his report, the orc knew that they should wait at least a little longer for Kal'jin in case the Warchief wanted to hear his explanation for tampering with the envelope. Eru was relieved when they reached their decision. With the merciless, sand-laden wind as his excuse, he had already settled his hood and mask over his head to conceal himself, but was still unable to shake his dread. They made their way through the crowded streets to the inn, the warlock ducking his head and keeping his chin firmly planted against his chest until they were inside. Even then, as they gathered at a table in the corner, Eru kept his head low.

After an hour had passed, during which Karn had become increasingly more agitated, the final member of their group came strolling through the door. Kal'jin approached them, drink in hand, with a sheepish grin stretching around his large, ivory tusks. "Sorry bout dat, sir." He told his commander as the ord glared up at him. The shaman turned to Eru, letting out a short, but loud burst of laughter. "What's dis? We got two rogues now? Why you be hidin' behind dat mask, mon?"

The warlock rolled his fel eyes, the only visible part of his face. His words were muffled slightly by the fabric that covered his nose and mouth. "Excuse me for not enjoying the sensation of sand in my teeth."

Kal'jin bought his excuse without even considering it. It wasn't hard to believe that a blood elf could be so pampered. The crafty rogue, on the other hand, would not be fooled so easily. She leaned in toward him and whispered so the others wouldn't hear. "What's wrong with you? You've been acting strangely ever since we arrived. You seem nervous, like you're hiding from something."

"I've no idea what you're talkin about." Hissed the elf through clenched teeth. In that moment, he was glad to have his expression hidden, although he still had to strain himself in an attempt to keep his brows from knitting together. The rogue was perceptive. However, he doubted that he'd made it very hard for her to read his actions.

Even so, she said nothing more on the matter, not that she'd had the time. Their orc commander stood suddenly, forcing his chair backward. It scrapped audibly along the dingy wooden floor. "We must go." Was all he said before hurrying out of the inn. The others all tagged along behind him...all but the warlock. Eru remained seated alone at the table, staring down at his hands as they began to tremble once more, this time more violently. With a slow, shuddering sigh, he finally rose from his chair and caught up with his party as they rounded the corner to The Drag.

The Drag was a fitting name for it, at least on this occasion. Eru shuffled along slowly behind them, his feet kicking up clouds of orange dust as he barely lifted them with each step. He nearly tripped a few times, earning him curious glances from the denizens that they passed along the way. When they came to the great, ominous opening of The Cleft of Shadows, it's violet mists ebbing out toward them, the warlock twisted his head in the opposite direction; an act that did not go unnoticed by the rogue at his side, or by their commander.

Knowing full well by now that Eru would simply avoid the matter if asked, the two refrained. Karn, who had his suspicions, knew that if the reasons behind the warlock's strange actions were indeed as he supposed, they they would all find out shortly. They had already arrived in The Valley of Wisdom and were mere steps away from The Warchief's throne room. Striding through the immense doorway, the group was greeted by two large green-skinned orcs, wearing heavy armor and Kor'Kron tabards. The Elite soldiers eyes them cautiously, their gazes lingering momentarily on the warlock, obviously unsettled by his mask. They seemed satisfied after noticing the green glow of his eyes, the unmistakable trait of a blood elf, and allowed the party to enter. In addition to the Kor'kron guards, there were several others inside the fortress; a female blood elf with a regal air about her slender little frame, a tauren towering over her as they conversed, an undead hunched over a little wooden table littered with various sized bottles, and a very intimidating troll who stood proudly at The Warchief's side, his shoulders thrown back and chest pushed forward to display the Darkspear emblem etched into his armor. Kal'jin bowed his head upon seeing his fellow troll, who returned the gesture.

"Greetings, warriors of The Horde." Said Thrall, his voice powerful and commanding. The group stepped forward and knelt in unison before the great orc's throne. "You may speak."

"Great Warchief," Karn began, lifting his head. "We have come to deliver a message from Lady Sylvanas Windrunner."

A spark of recognition flared in The Warchief's eyes. "Ah. So, you are the ones who accepted the mission to The Eastern Plaguelands. Your being here must mean that the courier met his demise. Very well, do you have the letter?"

"Sir." Karn nodded quickly and reached into his bag, pulling out the letter and pouch that contained the demon horns. Kal'jin glanced nervously at Eru and T'hak, but found his gaze unmet as his companions stared silently down at the floor. With a slight sigh, the shaman looked back to his leader as one of the Kor'Kron stepped toward him to retrieve the letter and pouch.

For a moment, the guard stared curiously at the little pouch, turning it over a few times as he tried to determine what it contained. Forgetting it entirely, the orc solder's eyes widened noticeably when they fell upon the opened envelope. He looked from the letter in his hand, to the kneeling warrior, and back before turning slowly to Thrall. Immediately, The Warchief spied the offense and turned angry, yet tentative eyes on those who had committed it. He resisted his first instinct to scold them and opted instead to speak calmly. "Explain yourselves."

"Honorable Commander, within that pouch you will find the horns of demons, which three of my warriors encountered on our mission. Finding the messenger dead, killed by these same demons, they made the decision to read the letter. They felt, as I do now, that under such circumstances, they would be more prepared by doing so. Please forgive our actions." Karn hung his head as he finished speaking. The others did the same.

The Warchief was silent for what seemed like an eternity to the guilty companions at his feet. When he finally spoke, his eyes had softened. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief. "While I do not condone your actions, I can understand them well enough. As such, I will pardon you for your crime...but, know that if you ever commit such an act again, you will be punished."

"Thank you, Great Warchief." Karn told him in an uncharacteristically humble tone. "You are both wise and merciful."

Thrall gave no response; he was busy pulling open the ties of the tiny pouch. He dumped it's contents into his large open palm and lifted one of the demon horns up to eye level to better inspect it. "From what type of demon do these horns come?" He asked.

"Felguards, sir." Answered Karn. He gestured toward Eru, who bristled. "Our warlock confirmed it. He was among those who fought the beasts.

"Is that so?" The Warchief's piercing gaze settled on the masked elf. "Tell me, warlock. Were these demons very powerful?"

All eyes shifted to Eru, who chewed his lower lip, hesitant to speak. He swallowed hard before finally answering. "Yes, sir. They were strong, though not as powerful as others I have encountered."

Hearing the voice that answered him, Thrall's eyes narrowed and he cocked his head slightly to one side. The warlock kept his eyes on the floor as the others glanced curiously between the two. Reluctantly, The Warchief's gaze shifted away from Eru as his attention re-focused onto the envelope in his hand. Though large in size, especially in comparison to the tiny object that they held, Thrall's steady fingers easily pulled the folded piece of paper from the envelope. Silently, he read the words scrawled in Sylvanas' elegant script. There was no visible change in his expression as his crimson eyes darted back and forth. With a sigh, he folded the letter along it's already creased center and leaned back on his throne.

"Lady Windrunner speaks rashly. This matter must be investigated before any blame can be placed." Said Thrall, reaching up to stroke his braided beard thoughtfully. He gazed at the high ceiling for a moment before his eyes drifted downward, settling once more on the group before him. "You look to be a powerful and capable band of warriors and you have already proven to me your ability to slay these demons. I would like you to head this investigation. No doubt, this will be a long and dangerous mission, but the rewards will be great. Do you accept?"

The companions glanced at one another, looking for signs of hesitation. They knew there had been a possibility that The Warchief would want them to pursue the matter further, but none of them had actually expected to be chosen over stronger, more experienced warriors for the task. Regardless, they were ready. There wasn't a soul among them who wouldn't jump at an opportunity to serve The Horde, never mind their curiosity and interest in the subject. Seeing in their eyes that his group were all up to the task, Karn turned back to the Horde Commander. "We accept, sir."

"Excellent!" Thrall boomed, jumping up from his throne and marching toward them. "Rise, brothers and sisters of The Horde, so that I may look upon those who would defend Azeroth from this perilous threat."

They all stood, but Karn, as their leader, was the first to speak. "Honorable Warchief, I am Karn Bloodhammer, former Kor'Kron Commander, and current leader of this guild."

"Bloodhammer, yes. I remember you well. You were a great commander in my army." Recalled Thrall, giving his fellow orc a respectful nod. He then turned to face the troll, who was next in line.

"I be Kal'jin, sir; shaman of The Darkspear Tribe. It be a great honor to serve you and da Horde." He boasted proudly.

"You will be a great asset in this endeavor." Replied The Warchief. "I thank you for your service."

Valeria was the next to be addressed; the massive orc shaman towering over her bony, hunched body. She gazed up at him with her eerie yellow eyes and grinned. "Sir, it is a pleasure to serve you and The Dark Lady in this mission. I am Valeria Moore, priestess of Undercity."

Thrall returned her grin with a smirk. "I trust you will be able to keep your party alive for the entirety of your mission."

"Yes, sir. They will all return with their hearts still beating and air in their lungs...except, of course, for myself and my Forsaken brother." The priestess motioned toward the mage at her side and Thrall's attention shifted to him.

"My name is Odun Thompson, Great Warchief." He explained in his rough, crackling voice. "Mage and Apothecary, also hailing from Undercity."

Thrall's hairless, muscular brows arched upward as Odun introduced himself. "I have heard, from Lady Sylvanas, of your exploits in Outland. It is my understanding that you are an exceptionally powerful mage. I would like to speak with you later about a matter concerning your days away from Azeroth, if you would not mind."

"Thank you, sir. I would be glad to do so." Odun replied.

"Very well, then. Later." Said The Warchief, who held a strange look in his eyes.

To the far left, Eru was trying to sink into the shadows, unnoticed and doing a decent job of it. He turned his hooded head away from their conversation as the rest of the group stated their names, classes, and homelands. Malkima spoke next, revealing herself as another Darkspear troll and conveying to Thrall her eagerness to serve The Horde, though her tone suggested that she was less than pleased with the circumstances. The huntress was followed by Ariynn, whose surname was apparently Shadowstep. In addition to stating her rogue specialization, she claimed to be a former member of The Farstriders and thanked The Warchief for allowing her the opportunity to prove her race's innocence. Next, the druid introduced himself as T'hak Cleartotem, born of Thunderbluff, and said nothing further.

"And you, warlock?" Eru tensed visibly under Thrall's fierce, commanding gaze. There was no hiding now. The time had finally come. As though the words had stuck him dead in the face, he grimaced as The Warchief spoke to him. "Remove your hood, elf, and tell me your name."

Eru remained silent, eyes averted. The others gaped at their disobedient companion as Thrall lifted a confused eyebrow. After a moment of thought, he scowled, but calmly said, "That was not a request."

That was it. He had been given a direct order from The Horde's mighty leader. He could not refuse. To do so was considered a traitorous act, punishable by death. Eru hesitated, contemplating which would be the worse punishment. Finally, he gave a heavy, resigned sigh and reached up with both gloved hands to remove his hood.

The Warchief's irritated expression, which had slowly grown more and more offended by the warlock's insolence, quickly shifted to one of utter shock and disbelief when the familiar face, wreathed in long, fiery locks, emerged from beneath his dark hood. Several other pairs of eyes, including those of the Kor'Kron guards, widened along with Thrall's.

"Forgive me, Warchief. I am Erurainon...of Orgrimmar." Said the warlock slowly. Eru could feel himself shrink under the speculative eyes of his companions, but tried his best to ignore it. It was a difficult enough task for him to flick his fel eyes upward and meet Thrall's gaze. The Warchief stared at him, a maelstrom of emotion reflecting in his wide eyes.

"Jack..." Thrall, usually so collected, seemed to be in a daze. "Where have you been all this time? When I never received word from you I feared the worst. Did none of my letters ever reach you?"

"I have been in Outland, Warchief, where you sent me." The warlock replied. His tone was harsh and cold, his lips settling into a hard, thin line once they had stopped moving.

The Warchief was thrown by his reply. Ignoring the elf's informal tone and leaving the others to wonder why he did so, Thrall slowly shook his head. "That campaign ended years ago. Furthermore, I was informed that the last time you were seen, you were headed back to Azeroth. Why did you not return home?"

"I had matters to attend to, sir." Answered Eru shortly.

The Warchief scowled, the slightest hint of a pout peeking through his grim expression. "Matters so pressing that you couldn't find the time to write a reply? That you couldn't even set foot in Orgrimmar for the better part of five years?"

The red-head chose not to mention that he had passed through the Horde capital a year ago. Correcting him would only make matters worse. He shrugged lightly as he gave his reply. "Yes, sir."

The Warchief sighed, relinquishing his feeble argument. He glanced warily at the others, who stood by silently gawking at the spectacle unfolding before them. Turning back to the warlock, he said, "We will speak of this another time. For now, you are all dismissed."

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_((Well, thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought. Chapter Seven is already proving to be a tad difficult. Not sure how long it'll take me to get it all put together. Its kind of a pain because I'm trying to make the plot flow neatly, but still throw some action in there. I'd say we're past due for some bloodshed! Wish me luck getting it all straight!))_


	7. Interlude

**Chapter Seven - Interlude**

Even in his darkened room, laying back on the stiff linen sheets, the thick Durotar heat seeped almost painfully through his skin. Grudgingly, Eru laid on the stone slab that the orc innkeeper dared to call a mattress. He was propped up slightly by the flat, solid pillows with one leg kicked straight out and the other dangling over the side of the so-called bed. He was certain that he could've gotten a more comfortable night's sleep on one of the barrack's infamous hammocks, but at least here he had his privacy. The last thing he needed now was a bunch of nosy orcs asking questions about his past. He'd had enough of that from Ariynn earlier that evening. The warlock scowled up at the cobweb coated ceiling as the memory returned to him.

"What was that?" The rogue inquired as their group made their way from The Valley of Wisdom back to the inn. She stared up at him anxiously, her wide fel eyes seeming to burn unusually bright with curiosity. A huff was the only reply he gave her. She placed her hands on her hips, the daggers that hung from the clinking quietly against her belt. "You aren't going to answer? Well, I suppose you already know what my next question will be."

"I can guess." Eru muttered, exasperated.

"What is your relationship with The Warchief?" Ariynn prodded despite his tone. "The two of you must be close for him to allow you to speak to him in such a manner. You're too young to have been a childhood friend. So, what then? I can't even begin to guess what your connection might be."

The perturbed warlock whirled around, blazing green eyes narrowed. "Then don't guess!" He hissed threateningly.

The elven beauty halted in her tracks, jumping back slightly when he suddenly turned on her. To their left, Malkima's tiger growled in response to the unsteady tension in the air. Both pairs of fel eyes shot downward toward the unsettled animal before Karn stepped toward them, drawing their attention.

"Enough, both of you." Their green-skinned commander ordered. He turned to Ariynn. "If the warlock does not wish to discuss the matter, then it is not your place to press him. We did not question your past involvement with The Farstriders when you joined our ranks."

The rogue turned a scowl on Eru. "You're right. Forgive me, warlock."

The red-haired elf's cold stare did not falter, even as he noted the ire she had poured into the last word she spoke. He watched as she crossed her arms and stormed past him to catch up with the other two females. Valeria and Malkima smirked wickedly back at him, to which he only responded by hardening his own glare. Eru knew from the look on her rotting, zombified face that the priestess had intended him to hear what she was about to say.

"Don't worry, dear." Valeria said, her voice croaking with the effort of speaking loudly enough to make herself heard. "I've heard that such bad temperament is a common sign on mana withdrawal."

"Indeed it is." The rogue spitefully agreed.

"Master?" The warlock was shaken free from his bitter memory by the velvety voice of the demoness who stood at his bedside. Sellissa loomed over him, both clawed hands resting on her voluptuous hips. Her full, painted lips protruded from her worried expression as she pouted down at him. The concerned succubus batter her thick black lashes at her master. "Looks as though that one is all used up. Would you like me to fetch you another?"

Eru looked from the demoness to the drained crystal in his palm. His fingers were stiff as he forced them to uncurl from around the tiny object. The vivid blue light that had once emanated from the shard had been siphoned completely, absorbed by his skin and drawn into his being. Still, it was not enough to slake his yearning for the arcane energy. Perhaps it had been the mention of his insatiable addiction that had brought about his miserable symptoms. Maybe it had been the fel magic he had indulged in at The Sanctum. Either way, the maddening withdrawal was gnawing fiercely at him now. His body ached, wracked with agonizing tremors. His head throbbed painfully with every anxious, quickened beat of his racing heart.

"Master." Sellissa repeated, reminding him of her presence. The warlock turned his fel eyes back to her. She leaned in closer to him, her slender tail flicking fretfully back and forth. "Say the word and I shall go, and return shortly with another crystal."

Eru's gaze drifted away from her as another wave of pain rippled through his trembling body. The succubus huffed. She straightened up and crossed her arms over he busty chest. "I know that is what you desire...but, I cannot go unless you command me to do so."

Her dazzling blue eyes softened as they wandered over his figure. Her hands found the hard mattress on either side of him as she closed the gap between the. Selliss pressed her face lightly against his, rubbing his cheek softly with her own. "Master..." She breathed into his long, pointed ear. "...please."

The demoness trailed her petal-soft lips along his jawline. She was about to place a delicate kiss on the corner of his chin when he finally spoke. "Go."

Sellissa smirked.

"As you wish." Her sultry voice whispered to him. Her words were followed by a quiet sound much like a rush of air and she was gone.

With her disappearance came another jolt of pain. His body jerked suddenly and he lost his grip on the crystal in his hand. He made no move to catch the crystal as it slipped from his weakened fingers, falling to the floor with a dull thud. Instead, he only groaned and struggled to lift his arms, wrapping them around himself. The simple motion drained what little strength was left in him and he sunk further into the bed, the position of the pillows forcing him onto his side. He remained that way, his face twisted in agony, until his minion returned just a few moments later.

"Master, I-" The succubus stopped, her speech halted by the sight before her. Without hesitation, she climbed onto the bed, laying down behind the warlock. Mindful of her razor-sharp talons, she reached around the convulsing body to embrace him. In one hand, she held a second crystal, this one glowing brightly with cool blue light. Sellissa pressed it with her palm against her master's chest and tried to ignore the way that it heaved up and down as though he were struggling to breath. She pressed herself against him tightly, her cheek once again finding his.

"This one is stronger that the others. It should last a lot longer." Sellissa muttered softly into his ear. She could feel the energy draining from the crystal as she held it against him. Slowly, as the powers within the glowing object seeped away and into his body, she felt the warlock's shaking cease.

"Master?" The demoness inquired. When she received no response, she peered over his shoulder. He was asleep. Satisfied with herself, she smirked and curled her body tightly against his to join him.

Meanwhile, in a room across the hall, a restless rogue found herself unable to drift into the same comforting slumber. The beautiful Ariynn say anxiously on her rented bed, pouty lips pursed and perfect brows pinched together. Pearlescent teeth clamped down onto her polished thumbnail as thoughts of her red-haired companion raced clumsily through her mind. She felt angry...and guilty. But, mostly angry. How dare he be so rude to her? She was the one who had defended him against Valeria's taunting. She had even allowed him to bed her the previous night. Was this how he treated all his conquests? Was that all she was to him? No, that couldn't be it. At first, he had protested the idea of their intimacy. But, perhaps that was all a charade; an act meant to confuse her at a moment such as this. Still, he didn't seem like the type of man to put on an act just to spend a night in a woman's bed. Nor did he need to with his combination of looks and power. However, if he was, the warlock was a master of manipulation. Ariynn wasn't exactly innocent when it came to such matters, but she had never before fallen into a man's trap so easily.

The rogue gave an exasperated sigh and got to her feet. It was no use sitting there guessing at the warlock's intentions. He owed her answers, not to mention an apology for getting her scolded by their commander. She grabbed her robe, flinging it around her otherwise scantily-clad body as she headed through the door and out into the hall. Just a few paces away was the door that led to where the infuriating warlock was sleeping. Of course, the rogue needed no key to gain her entry. In a matter of mere seconds, she had skillfully picked the lock and stepped into the darkened room.

As much as she wanted to yell at him, to demand her apology, Ariynn held her tongue. She felt a sudden hesitation. Her guilt grew intensely, overwhelming the anger that had prompted her bold confrontation. She lingered silently at the door. Guilt wasn't the only thing keeping her from speaking. There was something else amiss, something that made her feel as though she had to quiet even the sound of her own breathing. As she peered through the darkness at the shapes that gradually began to form before her slowly adjusting eyes, Ariynn spied the source of her unease. Her ghostly green eyes went wide as they fell on the figures on the bed and she clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet the gasp that she couldn't help escaping.

The elven beauty stood for a moment, frozen by her shock. stunned by the mixture of emotions the sight evoked in her. Finally, the pounding of her heart, the burning of the heated blood coursing through her veins, the painful way in which her stomach twisted, and the bitterness that choked her became all too much. She turned and ran from the room.

The succubus on the bed smirked into the darkness and tightened her grip on the man beside her.


	8. Understanding

Chapter Eight - Understanding

Eru stumbled backward, the balance of his battle-weary legs shaken. He took only a moment to glance down at the gash that stretched across the back of his knee, already seeping warm blood down his leg and into his boot. A moment was all he had. The cultist that was his enemy was already bearing down on him once more, drawing his sword back for a follow-up attack. The warlock raised his staff in defense, the two weapons coming together with a loud clang that quickly became lost amongst the multitude of other various sounds of combat. The demonic orc's strength was far greater than that of the elf and he was easily pushed backward. Eru fought to keep his ground, straining the newly forged injury. He grimaced as a jolt of pain raced upward through his thigh and his knee threatened to buckle. The cultist leaned in close to him, bearing his unnaturally sharp teeth, the foul stench of his breath creeping toward the elf's nostrils. Eru's green eyes shot momentarily to his left where the cuffs of his defeated voidwalker lay, abandoned on the pulsation, violet earth. It was the defeat of his demon, its untimely return to the Nether that had brought about this desperate situation. Eru had been without his minions before, but not against such a physically powerful opponent...and he had been given no warning, no time to prepare a spell to keep the sword-wielding beast at a safe distance. Warlocks were incredibly outmatched in close-quarter combat. Even he could admit that.

"Whats wrong?" The cultist sneered in a mutilated form of the language spoken by the orcs of Orgrimmar. "Can't fight for yourself?"

Eru scowled at the red-skinned orc, gritting his teeth and giving one final shove of his staff. The cultist shuffled backward as he was thrown from the elf. The warlock felt something tear just above his injured knee, but had no time to give in to the pain. He faltered for a moment, but was able to steady himself on his other leg and wasted no time in conjuring a spell. As his enemy lept forward, the red-haired elf whispered a few quick words in Demonic. A bolt of neon green light shot from his right hand, striking the orc in the center of his chest, his crazed red eyes going wide as his lifeforce was ripped away from him and absorbed into the elf. Stricken by a sudden overwhelming fear, the cultist turned to run, giving Eru the chance he needed. Energized by the vitality he had stolen from his opponent, the warlock straightened up and raised his hands into the air. With a few quietly uttered words, he was enveloped in a deep purple light coming up from the ground where a circle of demonic symbols had formed. A second later, Eru's voidwalker had returned to his side.

Thanphog gave a soft, appologetic hiss before gliding off after the escaping orc. Finding himself still for the first time since their battle had begun, Eru allowed himself a few seconds to take in his surroundings. There was still a small army of black-clad orc cultists to be dispatched, but his comrades seemed to be holding their own. The members of his new-found guild were scattered across the shattered landscape, each of them paired off with their own enemies, save only Valeria who stood off at a great distance, her hands glowling steadily with warm white light as she cast spell after spell to aid her injured allies. It seemed T'hak was not assuming a healing role today...no wonder his leg was still bleeding. Eru scoffed to see that the vindictive priestess hadn't cast a single glance in his direction. It didn't matter. He'd never had a healer before, why should he need one now?

The warlock turned his attention back to his only truly reliable ally; his voidwalker. Dependable as eve, Thanphog had already taken out his targer. However, he had also managed to attract the attention of three others and was now attempting to subdue them all at once. Not good. This was exactly how the demon had been defeated earlier. Eru ran as fast as his injured leg would allow toward the fray, stopping as soon as he came within casting distance. He held up an outstretched arm, channeling some of his own energy into his minion, revitalizing and empowering it. With an eerie demonic roar, the voidwalker swung his mighty clawed hand downward where it connected with the head of one of the cultists. His shadowy claws sliced through the orc's face, mutilating it's features as he crumpled onto the ground beneath the hovering demon. As Eru severed the link, he realized that his actions had not gone unnoticed. One of the other cultists, this one female, had looked up and seen him. Their eyes locked, vicious crimson metting ghostly fel green. She rushed at him, loosing a barbaric howl and raising her massive axe high above her head.

The warlock didn't stop to think about the fact that she was female. She wouldn't be the first woman he'd been forced to kill. In this world of war and bloodshed, one's gender was of little consequence. Before the cultist could close the gap between them, Eru cursed her with agony, effectively slowing her pace. That gave him enough time to utter a spell that set the air around her aflame and in an instant, her entire body was enveloped in fire. The flames twisted and curled their way around her figure, scorching her clothes and hair and searing her flesh. The she-orc screamed in pain and dropped her axe as she fell to her knees, writhing on the barren earth. Confident that she wouldn't be getting up again, Eru set his sights on the third orc, who was still battling with his demon. He cast a medley of curses upon it before putting the burning female out of her misery with a shadowbolt.

Just as he turned to join Thanphog in dispatching the final cultist, a horrid sound found it's way to his long, pointed ears. Eru whirled aorund, paniced eyes darting about the battlefield. It had been a woman's agaonized scream that he had heard and it was no orc...but, which of his companions had it been? He saw Malkima, fighting alongside Kal'jin and her loyal tiger. They were facing multiple enemies, but seemed to be having little trouble. Perhaps Valeria? She was certainly a vulnerable target. Glancing toward her, he saw that she was alone and safe, though there did seem to be a look of fear on her otherwise lifeless face. Though the presitess was casting toward T'hak and Karn, who were fighting hard against a rather large group of demonic orcs, her eyes were focused elsewhere. Following her gaze, Eru saw Ariynn just a few yards to his left laying on her back in the dirt with a particularly large orc on top of her. The cultist had her pinned by her throat, landing blow after blow to her delicate face with his enormous fist. As if that weren't enough, a second orc was rushing toward her, weilding a jagged sword.

Rage boiled up within the red-haired elf as he watched the scene before him, time seeming to slow to a near halt. He forgot completely about the wound on his leg as he sprinted forward, wishing that he could be quicker. Eru cast a spell of fear over the blade-wielding cultist, forcing him to turn on his heel and run screaming in the opposite direction before he had even arrived at his target. Only a few paces away form the struggle on the ground, the warlock had no time for another spell...but, that didn't matter. He leapt forward, tackling the orc that had pinned his comrade. They both rolled away, kicking up a cloud of thick voilet dust. They sprang apart, Eru reaching quickly into his robes for his dagger, his staff laying abandoned on the ground beside the crippled rogue.

"What are you doing?!" Ariynn screamed to him, her voice hoarse. Though her words were strained, Eru could make out an underlying hint of concern in her otherwise chastising tone. He ignored her.

For a moment, warlock and cultist both hesitated, kneeling opposite one another on the ground and exchanging hardened glares. The orc, who was without a weapon, was apparently waiting for Eru's first move. The elf took the opportunity to curse his opponent. Stupid beast. He should have known better than to give a warlock time to cast. The cultist, who seemed to have realized his mistake, became suddenly enraged. He leapt at Eru, who barely had time to raise his dagger for an attack. The orc blocked his attempt by grabbing Eru's wrist, pinning it to the dirt as he fell forward on top of him. The warlock tried to lift his arm and strike, but found it impossible. Even without the demonic blood that pumped through his veins, the sheer size and bulk of the orc's muscles easily overpowered the much smaller elf. However, Eru coudl see that the effects of his curses were beginning to take their toll. With every passing second, the cultist's strength was waning and the elf was able to gradually lift his arm, bringing his blade closer and closer to his opponent's throat. When steel met flesh, Eru squeezed his fel eyes shut and turned his head away, but he still felt the warmth of the orc's blood spill acoss his face and neck.

He shoved the massive body away, the lifeless orc falling with a thud to the ground beside him. The warlock stood and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, then turned to find Ariynn just getting to her feet. She scowled at him and opened her mouth to scold him for his recklessness when her eyes suddenly went wide. "Behind you!"

Eru turned just in time to see the gleam of a jagged sword as it came crashing down into his shoulder along the crook of his neck. The warlock cried out in pain and fell to his knees, clutching at his shoulder as blood spurted profusely from between his fingers. Ariynn was frozen in shock, staring with wide, fearful eyes as the orc attacker prepared to bring his sword down once more. She tried to force her feet to move forward, but it all happened so quickly that she didn't have enough time to react. In her stead, Eru's faithful demon appeared suddenly to aid him, gliding with supernatural speed toward the cultist.

"Master..." The voidwalker hissed. With a swipe of his powerful paw, the demon knocked away the orc's blade. By that time, Ariynn had come to her senses and joined the fight. She was a blur of twirling blades and spraying blood as she sliced away at the orc, making quick work of him. Once the cultist was dead, nothing more than a piles of tattered black cloth and bloody flesh, the demon and rogue both turned their attention to the warlock. The red-head was still on his knees, facing away from them with one hand clamped over his wounded shoulder, the other pressed flat against the ground for support. Ariynn darted around to kneel in front of him, concerned eyes filling with dread as they took in his agonized expression.

"Ery, are you alright?" The blonde elf asked. He gave no response. She glanced downward at the pool of crimson that was gathering with disturbing speed beneath him. Paniced, she looked around until she finally spotted the priestess, still focused on T'hak and Karn. "Valeria!"

The undead priestess scowled, her brow furrowing in an effort to hold her concentration. She wasn't oblivious. She was aware of everything that was happening around her: she had to be in order to be an effective healer. But, that didn't change anything. Karn and T'hak were facing the brunt of the cult forces and required all of her attention at the moment. It wasn't that she was ignoring the warlock's need. Sure, she despised him with every rotting inch of her body, but she still didn't want to allow one of her comrades to parrish under her watch. The fact of the matter was, if she turned her attention away from the warrior and druid, there was a good chance that they would be overpowered and that would put their entire group in danger.

"I can't!" The preistess called to her. Ariynn's green eyes smoldered, angry even though she understood Valeria's reasoning.

The warlock was panting now, heaving labored, shuddering breaths between occasional groans of pain. Ariynn removed her robe, folding it sloppily in her haste, and pressed it against the wound. Eru winced.

"You're going to be alright." She told him, forcing the confidence into her voice. "We just have to get the bleeding to stop."

He looked up at her through mussed red locks, his expression grim and unconvinced, even through the pain. A second later, his arm gave out, dropping him instantly into the crimson puddle of his own blood.

"Eru!" Ariynn cried. She looked up toward the others, desperate for assistance. "We need help! Someone! Kal'jin!"

The shaman was a short distance away, closer to them than any of the others. However, he was fighting alongside Malkima against three demonic orcs. Kal'jin was also aware of the dire events that were occuring behind him, but at the moment, he too was preoccupied. "I'm tryin', sista! Tell 'im ta hold on!"

"Go!" Malkima urged her fellow troll as she fired a volley of arrows from her sturdy bow. "I can handle these beasts on my own."

"Don' be stupid, girl." Kal'jin argued. "You wanna end up like 'im? I'm not leavin' ya alone ta fight all dese 'tings!"

"She won't be alone." Came the gruff voice of Odun as he came up beside them. The mage wasted no time, immediately attacking the orcs with a blast of razor-sharp ice shards which ripped through their bodies as if they had been made liquid rather than flesh and bone. His next attack he aimed directly at Kal'jin current opponent, an incredibly powerful spell that drew the cultist's attention so that the shaman could retreat. "Go and help the warlock."

After a momen's hesitation, Kal'jin turned and ran to where the warlock lay, motionless, with Ariynn still pressing her robe against his wound. The troll reached down and gently rolled the limp figure onto his back, then waved his hand over the bloodied body and a wisp of green mist hung in the air above him. He then pushed Ariynn's hand away from the wound, replacing it with his own and closing his eyes as he focused on channeling a spell into the elf. Ariynn looked on, growing more and more anxious to see no improvement in the warlock's condition. Finally, the shaman opened his eyes, a grim expression on his face. He removed his hand. The rogue beside him pulled her blood-soaked robe away from Eru's shoulder and huffed upon finding a gash still cut into his flesh.

"What's wrong?" The blonde elf asked. "Can't you heal him?"

Kal'jin slowly shook his head. "Tis a terrible wound. I can stop da bleedin', but he needs more powerful magic. Holy magic."

Ariynn's jaw dropped slightly. They turned in unison to look at Valeria. The priestess was still focused solely on T'hak and Karn's battle, though the others had since come to join them in their effort. A look around the area revealed countless bodies of dead cultists, some still twitching and clinging hopelessly onto life. The battle was won. All that remained were four demonic orcs, who would soon meet their fate at the hands of the other four guild members. It was only a matter of time now...but, just how much time the warlock had left was a mystery to them. Kal'jin turned to the rogue, still beautiful even though her face was bruised, the skin of her brow, cheek, lips, and chin all broken and bleeding. "I'm going ta help dem. It'll be quicka dat way."

Ariynn nodded, watching as he raced away to join the others. She watched him only long enough to see him cast a bolt of crackling lightning down over the heads of the orcs before looking down at Eru. She bit her lip despite the jolt of pain it caused. Ignoring the blood that soaked the earth beneath them, Ariynn scooted forward, slipped her delicate fingers beneath his head and gently lifted it, resting it carefully back down upon her legs. Her fingers trembled as they brushed his hair from his face, pulling it away from the drying blood that had kept it stuck against his skin. The sound of heavy footsteps, someone running toward her, made her turn. She had expected it to he one of her companions, but the color drained from her already pale face when she saw what was truly approaching. A cultist. He was a horrific sight. There was a massive slash stretching across his gut, deep enough to reveal his inner organs, which were poking slightly out from between the folds of his skin. One of his arms was missing, nothing left but a mangled, bloody stump. His face was severely disfigured; claw marks traveled down from his scalp to his chin, leaving one of his eyes ripped from the socket, hanging by the nerve that was attatched somewhere deep within his skull. How he was still alive and able to rush her, she had no idea, but that didn't matter now. Ariynn had only a few seconds to make a decision on how to act. She could get up and fight, but didn't want to leave the injured warlock unattended. However, it seemed she didn't have much of a choice. Instinctively, she reached for one of her blades.

Just as her hand found the hilt of her weapon, the warlock's demonic guardian stepped in, or rather, floated. The voidwalker moved between his wounded master and the charging cultist, taking the full force of his blade as he swung it wildy into the shadowy figure. The demon didn't so much as flich, holding his ground. Thanphog lifted his arms, thick pointed fingers curling around the cultist's neck and tighening. There came a gruesome crunching sound that made the rogue cringe and turn away, followed by a loud pop. When she looked back, the orc's mangled body hung limp, like a broken doll, from the voidwalker's grasp. The demon lifted his prey high into the air and roared triumphantly before tossing the lifeless figure away.

"Master..." Thanphog hissed, turning and approaching the rogue and warlock. Airynn gaped at the demon as it stopped at her side, looking so menacing as it loomed over her. It might have just been her fatigued mind playing tricks on her, but she swore that she could see a hint of concern in the voidwalker's smoldering yellow eyes. In that moment, she finally understood why Eru had become so upset when she spoke ill of his demon companions that night in Silvermoon.


End file.
